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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24052987">But We Must Carry On As Though We Do</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_blue_electricblue/pseuds/blue_blue_electricblue'>blue_blue_electricblue</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>unironic ironic elias/reader [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Affection, Companionable Snark, Daddy Kink (implied), Friendship, Headaches &amp; Migraines, Implied Caning?, Implied Sexual Content, Lunch, Mentor/Protégé, Other, look i'm sorry i'm horny for him</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:40:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,912</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24052987</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_blue_electricblue/pseuds/blue_blue_electricblue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You like to think you and your old Beholding mentor, Elias, have a good thing going. You get lunch, and you sleep together, and you very unfortunately fall in love with him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Elias Bouchard/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>unironic ironic elias/reader [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1754923</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>80</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>But We Must Carry On As Though We Do</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i'm sorry,,, if i could stop, i would, i really would</p>
<p>title from Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf bc i reference it briefly and i couldn't think of anything fucking else</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“You are far too easily bought, darling. You could at least try and hide how much of a gold digger you are.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You snort and smack Elias on the arm, but continue your stubborn closeness to him. “And whose money paid for my sushi that you insist proves my obsession with your material wealth? Because I have a feeling that it wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> material wealth, my love.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was, all in all, a fairly uneventful lunch. Especially given the fact that neither you nor Elias </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to eat anymore. But lunch is a good excuse for preamble to sex in Elias’s office, because unfortunately both you and Elias are too damn </span>
  <em>
    <span>classy</span>
  </em>
  <span> to have absolutely nothing to preempt sex, and so when your regular Friday arguments get a bit too frought, or the makeout session gets a bit too hot, one of you will inevitably break it off and say, breathlessly, furiously, with wide eyes and bruised lips, “Lunch?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sometimes the food even cools you off enough to avoid ruining the couch in Elias’s office. Again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That almost seems to be the case this time around, you think as you strut back into the Institute, looking powerful and alluring and stunning hanging off Elias’s arm. The two of you make a </span>
  <em>
    <span>gorgeous</span>
  </em>
  <span> picture, which you take an inordinate amount of pleasure in. Two radiant, perfect beings. You look </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> together, like you </span>
  <em>
    <span>belong</span>
  </em>
  <span> together, even if that isn’t truly the case. Ah, well. Truth or illusion; you never knew the difference, even if you must carry on as if you do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The reality appears this time as though the heated argument has been chilled somewhat by an amiable lunch, even as Elias and you walk to Elias’s office together, looking like the very definition of beauty. You are not as absolutely furious with Elias as you were not an hour ago. The rest of this friendly meeting may very well be that– a friendly meeting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elias extracts his arm from your grip to unlock his office and you try desperately to sort out how you feel about this visit not ending in sex.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If you don’t fuck in his office, you will count the minutes till you get to see each other again. You will ache for Elias’s presence. You will berate yourself endlessly for not taking advantage of every second you have with him, not constantly kissing his stupid, awful, smirking face, not pressing your body near his.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And yet, you might also have a lovely conversation. Elias might offer advice on teaching unruly students, on getting people to put on a good… </span>
  <em>
    <span>satisfying</span>
  </em>
  <span> show, to See and Watch and Know. He might pause in his work while you sit in the chair opposite him and read, and he might come around and massage your shoulders for a moment, press a kiss to the eye on the back of your neck… It might feel as though Elias actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>cares</span>
  </em>
  <span> about you, even if that is a useless illusion. It might feel as though you have… something, rather than an allyship-with-benefits.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elias opens the door to his office and walks in. You, the fool in love that you are, helplessly follow behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose we’re both unrepentant gold diggers, then,” Elias finally concludes, and it takes you a moment to realize that you’d left your mouth on autopilot to bicker idly about the Lukases and the definition of gold-digging.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I like to think I earn my keep, too,” you say in return. “I don’t dress this well because of </span>
  <em>
    <span>you.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elias gives you a look. “Yes, you do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You resist the very childish impulse to stick your tongue out at him. You are an adult, and you do not need to do that. Even if Elias deserves it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You, instead, walk over to the seat opposite Elias’s desk and sit down heavily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Careful, that’s worth more than you are.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, fine, </span>
  <em>
    <span>dad,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> you say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You can practically hear Elias grin, and should you care to Look, you would see how much like a predator he looks as he stalks toward your chair. But as it is, your back is to him, and you’ve known him for long enough to know exactly how he’d react to that quip, anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And, after exactly seven steps on the hardwood floor, hands dig into the back of your chair, and you feel the heat of Elias’s face, just next to yours as you look steadfastly ahead and try not to smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘Dad?’ That’s a new one,” he comments. “Shall I take you over my knee, then? I think this behavior warrants such treatment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mm, I wouldn’t be </span>
  <em>
    <span>opposed,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but I was simply stating facts,” you reply. “You are old enough to be my father, you know, and that must be what </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> thinks when we’re out together! Honestly, this one is nearly sixty, running around with a little twenty-nine-year-old like me–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course</span>
  </em>
  <span>, how could I have forgotten you’re twenty-nine? You’ve been twenty-nine for so long, I really should know how old you are at this point.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should! I’ve been twenty-nine for…” you pause.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And here we have the mathematical genius, struggling to figure out how many years there are between twenty-nine and thirty-seven.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut </span>
  <em>
    <span>up</span>
  </em>
  <span> you insufferable </span>
  <em>
    <span>git,</span>
  </em>
  <span> it’s eight years, I’ve been twenty-nine for eight years now, and– Elias I swear on my eyes if you don’t stop laughing–</span>
  <em>
    <span>ah!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You cut yourself off suddenly and pinche the bridge of your nose. You’d had a low-level headache all day, and as much as you tried to pretend otherwise, it had been spiking suddenly and uncomfortably.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elias, bastard that he is, does not show any sympathy at all, and clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “I told you not to overwork yourself. You’ve still got some vestiges of humanity clinging to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, don’t be a bitch,” you snap at him. “Human? After twelve years?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, darling,” he says, trailing his hands up your shoulders and into your hair, massaging the nape of your neck. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Vestiges,</span>
  </em>
  <span> dear, I experience them too, and it’s been significantly longer than twelve years for me. We all suffer for our Gods.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak, I suppose,” you sigh, relaxing back into Elias’s wonderful, wonderful hands. He was so </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> at this. “Still, if I’d have known ahead of time that the punishment for serving the Eye was migraines, I might have pissed off and joined the Vast.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Simon is hoping that you still will,” he says. “But no, you wouldn’t have.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I wouldn’t have,” you agree, the tension leaving your shoulders. “The Falling Titan was after me but, mmh, nothing is quite so wonderful as Knowing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And aside from that, you did not choose the Eye.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the Eye chose me, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>remember</span>
  </em>
  <span> the lessons.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, the lessons,” he says gleefully. “I do so miss the lessons. Having a young little thing, admiring me, adoring me, hanging on to every word I said…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“With whom did you have these lessons?” you snark. “Because I rather remember being a </span>
  <em>
    <span>massive</span>
  </em>
  <span> brat, driving my teacher insane, and ignoring him most of the time because I thought I knew better.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elias </span>
  <em>
    <span>tugs</span>
  </em>
  <span> harshly on your hair, making you gasp. “You were begging to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>caned</span>
  </em>
  <span> is what you were doing. Don’t pretend otherwise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wanted to see you </span>
  <em>
    <span>snap</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” you say. “I wanted you to break first. And you </span>
  <em>
    <span>did.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I still fucking beat you, old man, remember that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elias grabs and </span>
  <em>
    <span>twists</span>
  </em>
  <span> your hair, and you whine in response.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop, stop it–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>made</span>
  </em>
  <span> you,” Elias hisses, and you can barely hold back a moan, but you </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to stay silent or else he’ll </span>
  <em>
    <span>win.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Behave. I made you all that you are, and I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>much</span>
  </em>
  <span> more powerful than you. I might as well be your </span>
  <em>
    <span>Daddy,</span>
  </em>
  <span> pet, for all the hand I had in creating you. Now, you’re going to be good for me, because I made you all that you are, and if you think for </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> moment that I can’t take you apart just as easily–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Stop,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Elias, you’re going to ruin my </span>
  <em>
    <span>hair,</span>
  </em>
  <span> you asshole,” you says, knowing full well that you’re going to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>in trouble</span>
  </em>
  <span> for that–</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And you </span>
  <em>
    <span>very much are,</span>
  </em>
  <span> you realize as Elias yanks you up by your hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Over the desk,” he commands, his hand still in your hair, forcing you close to his chest, his mouth right by your ear. “You will </span>
  <em>
    <span>listen</span>
  </em>
  <span> when I speak. I think you need another </span>
  <em>
    <span>lesson,</span>
  </em>
  <span> pet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But my </span>
  <em>
    <span>head</span>
  </em>
  <span> hurts, Elias–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll give you something else that hurts more, to take your mind off of it. Over. The. Desk.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He kisses the back of your neck, right where your eye tattoo is, and releases your hair, making you stumble forward a bit, almost falling over his desk and getting winded by the edge of it. You manage to catch yourself at the last second and hesitate, pouting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Now,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Elias says, and with all the dignity you can muster, you gracefully drape yourself over Elias’s desk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elias’s footsteps walk back across the floor, to the umbrella bucket. You sneak a Look and watch as Elias carefully picks out an ancient, gorgeous cane, handle made out of antler and carved perfectly for a man who is, supposedly, long dead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jonah Magnus’s cane.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was feeling sentimental, then.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll get you a blindfold if you keep being bad,” Elias says, crossing the room again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>God,</span>
  </em>
  <span> please do, that was fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>sexy–</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elias’s hand suddenly </span>
  <em>
    <span>grabs </span>
  </em>
  <span>your hair and with a twisting grasp he pulls you back into a standing position, forcing you to inhale sharply to avoid making any other noise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you going to be good now?” he murmurs into your ear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Never,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” you manage. “Never.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You can </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear</span>
  </em>
  <span> his grin, spreading across his beautiful face and lighting it up. You Peek at it, decide that is cowardly of you, and then toss a look and a grin of your own over your shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When you make eye contact there’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. There’s always something. Some unknown, unspeakable connection, something that pulls you together. You wish it means more than just two powerful eye avatars being caught in a feedback loop.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it doesn’t.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So you grin invitingly, and Elias grins back viciously, and he momentarily sets down his cane, momentarily releases your hair, and turns you in his arms to kiss you sweetly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A long time ago, you and Elias made a promise to each other that you would never read the other’s mind. Too much stress, too invasive, too… too much drama, and quite frankly, Elias had enough romantic drama that you did not want to be counted in that number, and if you constantly read each other’s minds, it would just cause unnecessary strife and difficulties. So you did not Look into each other’s minds, kept secrets to yourselves, and went on your happy way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This, however, means that you feel perfectly safe, perfectly comfortable, in thinking as loudly as you can </span>
  <em>
    <span>ILOVEYOUILOVEYOUELIASILOVEYOU</span>
  </em>
  <span> whenever you press your lips to Elias’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elias pulls back eventually, of course. “Don’t try and distract me,” he says, smiling against your mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you mumble back. “You know how much I like to be punished.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elias places a quick, soft kiss against your mouth. “My wonderful disciple.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Those words are not ‘I love you.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They ring through your heart and mind all the same.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>again i am,,, very sorry</p>
<p>but like come say hi to me on <a href="https://twitter.com/bluezaffre">twitter</a>!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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